


The Life of a Married Asshole

by Itachi_S_Lucius



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Greg House Being an Asshole, Hiding Medical Issues, M/M, Married Couple, Medical Conditions, Slow Updates, sarcastic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:44:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itachi_S_Lucius/pseuds/Itachi_S_Lucius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this is life married to a Brit, who knew?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Life of a Married Asshole

It took him three minutes to decide, that he absolutely hated this black suit. It fit him, it looked good on him, but the buttons were so goddamned small, and the tie just wouldn't fasten itself, why? He wished he knew, all ties should tie themselves. For a few minutes he had contemplated hitting the blond Australian with his cane, but the thought quickly dismissed the thought, it wouldn't do to get charged with domestic abuse his first day back in his apartment. Robert was less likely to mind then their neighbors. They were all incredibly nosey.

They had been gone for two months, his whole diagnostic team had in fact. A vacation ordered by Cuddy, one of those "or else" ones. It was perfect timing for him and Robbie though. They had been "dating" for at least a year now, and House, eager to get the whole affair over with, had proposed. They had left for Australia a week later to get married. It had been a quick thing, Greg, of course, had never been one for massive amounts of sentiment. 

That being the case, it was also a very private wedding. Not even Willson knew, but he also didn't know they had been dating for the past year. They had been late for the flight, and Greg had been forced to put on something rather quickly, hence his wedding suit, tux, whatever. 

It's taken forever to convince Robert to take his name, though, and even then, the younger blond wasn't planning on letting the hospital use House-Chase, his stubbornness was both a blessing and a deterrent. The board had reluctantly agreed. Of course he, as House, had to convince them slightly, but alas they had appealed the request, and all was well with the world. Well, not really, he still has clinic duty when they go back tomorrow. 

He turned his cane with his leg and stomped it on the ground, hopefully, the neighbors would start yelling at him again and he could have some real fun antagonizing them. However, that’s when Robert came into the living room, rolling his eyes and sighing quietly. He had gotten tanner during their trip, and his Australian accent had thickened considerably. It was quite a turn on for House. 

“Are you planning trouble on our first day back at the hospital as well?” Well, it seemed his blond husband had known he was trying to irritate the neighbors, how observant. 

“You caught me, I’m planning to plant a nuclear bomb underneath Cuddy’s chair, it might make her stay quiet about our new married status. What do you think?” Chase did a snort/smile and bent over to grab whatever had been carelessly thrown onto the floor by the overly sadistic diagnition. 

“She’ll probably just give you extra clinic hours.” The blond seemed distracted by the fabric in his hands, which took the elder a minute to realize it was one of his own shirts, Chase walked off still examining the thing. Greg just smirked and turned on the TV, far too lazy to go remove his tux, suit, whatever.

* * *

The hospital was fundamentally the same, except he wouldn’t really know, but when he had entered it did look rather similar to the way he had before. Right now his only focus was how much Cuddy’s breasts had expanded, he was thinking implants when he first saw them, but now that he was closer he was thinking pregnant, her fingers were fatter, and her hair lusher. Pregnant had to be. Well unless she got some really strange body desires over the time of his leave.

“House!” He raised his head, slightly saddened by the fact that he was dragged away from staring at two firm boobs to the angry face of a forty? Maybe late thirty-year-old woman. It was rather disappointing, her expression, obviously, not being having to drag his eyes away from the strange sight of Cuddy’s lace pink bra. Obviously not. That would be cheating. Or would it? He’d have to check with his husband later on, maybe after this meeting. 

“Sorry, I was distracted. By the way, are you by any chance addicted cosmetic surgery?” She gave him one of those ‘I-cannot-believe-you-just-asked-me-that’ faces, and a scoff, seemingly for good measure; just to make sure he got the idea that she thought he was being ridiculous by asking such a thing. He wasn’t not really, but he couldn’t resist giving her a curious look. “Was that a yes?” She went back to her desk and stacked more papers. She stopped abruptly and gave him another stare, this one he knew was supposed to be more venomous. 

“You didn’t listen to a word I said did you?” Turning to his husband, who of which was giving him a stare as well, but a less Cuddy like one, he shrugged. 

“No, not really, like I said, distracted. I’m sure Bobby here heard it, though, he can give me the rundown at home  or something.” He twirled his cane in a back and forth movement, attempting to appear both uninterested, and absent minded so that he could get out of her office sooner, and hopefully avoid her retaliation. 

She clenched her jaw, and House smiled, well more smirked, but it was the same difference in this case; she was only going to give him the summary of the lecture she had just given him and Chase. 

“Basically-” She said this through clenched teeth he noted, that might just mean more clinic duty. “-The board isn’t going to allow you to keep Dr. Chase on your staff. They’re worried about favoritism. And quite frankly so am I.” He pretended to be hurt, rather badly, just to ease into her hormone riddled brain that he wasn’t too worried about that. He had no intentions of favoring his husband, and even Chase knew this, the job is the job, and personal life is just that, personal, none of the hospital's business, and none of his own until he gets off. 

“Please, I don’t have a favoring bone in my body.” Really he is scoffing at the notion. 

“You favor Wilson.” 

“Wilson is not in diagnostics and doesn’t help unless it involves cancer. Therefore the minimal chance of me favoring him. And have you even met this guy? He doesn’t let his personal life get in the way of his work, he’s far too professional for that. Even if I did try and favor him, he’d just ignore it, and me for the rest of the day. Meaning I won’t get laid later in the day, meaning no favoritism will occur. So there you have it, can we go now, I want to get back to my game, I was on level fourteen.” She rolled her eyes and looked over at the blonder man, he gave her a shrug, and House smiled as she sat back down, victory: House.

She grabbed a blue file off her desk and handed it to him. His gut sank slightly. A bet, or at least a condition to her surrender. 

“Fine. You can keep Chase on your staff- If! You solve this case without any signs of favoritism,  _ and  _ you have an extra hour on clinic duty.” He groaned and handed the file to Robby as he left the room, the limp in his step slightly more agitated than before he’d walked into the woman’s office. 

Chase followed quickly after, coming up beside him in an instant. Reading the file as he went. They headed to his office, Cameron and Foremen waiting for them already, the thin woman having dyed her hair a scarlet red. It brought out her nearly exposed chest. Foremen, however, he looked exactly the same, it was quite tempting to make a joke about being black, but that would be too racial. Instead, he popped two pills of Vicodin. He smiled at his little ducklings then and began diagnosing the rather boring case. 

* * *

Wilson was on his ass, this time, it was about his team's short little vacation, what they did who they saw, really the guy was probably even hoping for a response, hoping that he’d actually talked to his team like friends in his office.  Wilson should know better. He made him pay for lunch because of it, not that he didn’t do that every day, but still good friends paid for each other's meals.

“You know maybe getting to know your team a little better might help when diagnosing patients.” House gave him a stare that looked friendly, but really on the inside it was his eye roll of ‘your-an-idiot-I’m-going- to-leave-now-I-don’t-talk-or-hang-around-idiots-because-you-never-know-it-could-be-contagious-one-day.’ Wilson paused, his sandwich inches from his mouth, and his mouth open to eat it. He knew the look very well, he put the sandwich down. “No you're right, that’s stupid-” House opened his mouth, Wilson continued. “But my main point is you should talk to people more House. It could improve your depression. Statistics  show-” The other rolled his eyes. 

“Statistics lie, mostly because the studies are done by people. I don’t need more human interaction, my head will explode.” James did that little thing the one where he comes close to rolling his eyes, but doesn’t actually, that and his lips thin out. 

“You're pathetically motivated to remain isolated you know that?” Greg ignored the question and shoveled some Mac & Cheese into his mouth instead. It seemed like a rhetorical question anyway. 

Wilson ate a bite of his sandwich, ignoring House ignoring him. 

“House.” The calm voice sounded just behind them, heavily Australian. Chase was wearing a completely blank expression, and held a folder in his hands, black. So it couldn’t be patent related. Black folders meant personal information, frankly the Doctor files. Greg just had to wonder if that was actually a show if it is he would have to watch it. Chase held out the folder to the graying man, House vaguely noted that his hand was shaking slightly.

“Cuddy needs you to look over and sign this.” As he reached for the folder he put on a very serious face. 

“Really? I told her, I didn’t want the nudes until Thursday.” Robbie scoffed, and Wilson rolled his eyes. House smiled at both of them, it wasn’t an honest smile. 

* * *

They both got home late, the patient they were reviewing went into antiepileptic shock and they couldn’t leave for another hour, as they had to at least try and figure out why. Chase was rather grouchy because of it. House found it rather cute, the long-haired doctor gets grouchy when he doesn’t eat or sleep enough, rather of teenager quality but still it was cute.

“Wanna have sex after dinner?” Robert only growled, it didn’t matter, the elder doctor had been expecting it after all. It did make him laugh at it with a large smile, though, he limped towards the kitchen without saying something in retaliation. Chase, on the other hand, sat down on the sofa and lolled his head back, seemingly exhausted. And perhaps he was, but House wasn’t buying it, and since he was always right… Well, need he really explain? 

* * *

It’s rather randomly that he starts thinking of something very strange; Wilson. Okay, no, not in the funny, dirty way. In the; best-friend-might-just-love-my-lover, sorta way, the teenager definition of thinking of one's best friend, that sort of strange paranoia that just has you trying to figure out how to prove it. No matter how ridiculous the concept really is.

Robert -of course- had figured it out in the early stages of the paranoia, Robert had only rolled his eyes, he then continued absentmindedly nibbling on his pen; as he tried to complete his crossword. Absolutely not giving a shit.  House didn’t expect him to, the man was completely attuned with his mind most of the time and knew that he would do nothing but pull a couple of humiliating pranks. 

Chase said he knew most of his emotional conflicts by cane (which was how he knew now of the elder’s mental conflict allegedly), rather how he walked with his cane. If he was in a vindictive mood he wouldn’t lift it up as high off the ground and walk at a quicker pace. If he was angry he would do the same thing, except he would slam it on the ground more. Slow and heavy leaning obviously meant pain. Light leaning over and the twisting of the cane meant happy. So on, and so on. House wondered quite a bit if this held any truth in it, but really the Aussie didn’t have much of a reason to lie, he would without shame if he needed to, though. 

“House.” Yes, Wilson and lunch, extensive thinking. They always seemed to go hand-in-hand. Also tuna sandwich. Tasty. 

“What do you think of the new nurse in Radiology?” He asked this to get off the topic they were on, mostly because he didn’t remember what it had been. 

Wilson sighed, but nevertheless, he looked thoughtful at the question. 

“I think she’s had a breast implant, definitely.” House nodded, and smirked slightly, he had already known that. He didn’t say much of anything else, however.

“Okay, something’s up. That, or you're planning something. So which?” House stared at his friend, but revealed nothing, he just sat there and smiled with his eyes. Wilson groaned. “So both then.” It wasn’t a question, so the grayer man simply rose from his seat, and out of the lunch room, into the hallway. 

“What are you planning?” He did a little half turn, not that he needed to as he knew the voice anywhere; the caring mother of the hospital. 

“Why does everyone think I’m planning something, maybe I’m just high.” She was beside him now as they both walked down the corridor closer, and closer to his office. But she still managed to give him on of her very own disapproving looks even as they walked, her eyes almost completely fixed on the hallway in front of her.  

“You’re always planning something.” He turned to her just as he came to his office door, and smiled mockingly at both himself and the woman in front of him. Sarcastic horror on his face, plain as day.

“You wound me, sir!” He clutched at his heart and pretended to be shot. Cuddy glared at the display and left, she didn’t have time to deal with House’s brand of bullshit. The graying man watched her go while he himself was already half way into his office, of course, he was staring at her ass. She wore those professional looking business skirts for such a thing to happen. Well, that’s what House knew anyway. 

“We need to talk.” Ah, if it wasn’t the woman who stared at his ass. How coincidental, well not really, because she had obviously been waiting in his office for awhile just to say those particular movie-orientated lines. He did stop and stare at her strange ugly sweater  for a second, though, dark green turtlenecks really didn’t suit her. They were really more his thing. He wore them better at least.

“Are you going to give me a lapdance?” She gave him a befuddled look, her mouth slack-jawed, and he giggled to himself slightly at the sight. 

“W-what?! No!” The stuttering topped the cake, and he clicked his tongue in fake disappointment. Then walked around her to his chair, there was a new clip he’d downloaded yesterday that he hadn’t watched yet. She seemed annoyingly focused on talking with him, though, her hands even touched his desk as she leaned down, was this an interrogation or one of her many book-learned intimidation tactics? He wasn’t sure, but he was betting on the latter for thirty. 

He turned to his computer and hoped that Chase hadn’t gone through it for his weird British reasons and deleted his porn again. That would be a pain. 

“House.” He grunted in her general direction, and heard her sigh, then there was the familiar sound of paper being dropped onto his desk, and he wanted to wince as he looked at the innocent red folder sitting there. Great. 

“Look, Cuddy wanted you on this case, she would have told you herself, but I need to make one thing clear before we get into it.” He turned to her, his hands folded over his thighs and an innocent smile in place. His lovely husband had deleted his porn, again, damn him.“-This woman is my friend House. So I’d appreciate it if you could be less of an asshole this once. At least.” Ugh. Did she not understand that he wasn’t nice? He thought it was general knowledge around the hospital. Maybe he’d leave her to be disillusioned. Sounded fun. 

Not answering seemed like the best policy, at least then he wouldn’t be lying when he wasn’t nice to what-was-her-name? 

Cameron seemed to take his silence as agreement, for some reason related to misplaced adoration most likely anyway. He didn’t think on it, in anything other than humor. 

Shit, when were those extra clinic hours due again? 


End file.
